


Field Trip

by soloproject



Series: Star Trek shorts [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Shameless Hijacking of SGA Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soloproject/pseuds/soloproject
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reboot Academy-verse; Shameless hijacking of SGA characters to be AU’d into redshirts. Set during reboot Starfleet Academy days, before the maiden voyage of the Enterprise. Warning for the fact that I think I’m super hilarious and just constantly crack myself up but really, I'm just lame. Veers toward Kirk/McCoy but is still safely gen. Probably has tons of typos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Field Trip

Tests, for command cadets, are based on universal principles: leadership, trustworthiness, creativity, bravery, the list goes on. Some tests are trickier than others, the Kobayashi Maru for instance, for which one James T. Kirk will eventually go down in Starfleet Academy history for beating.

But it’s a long road yet to the Kobayashi Maru and before that there are countless seminars to take on everything from intergalactic tactics to xenosocio-cultural anthropology. Despite the fact that there’s no one in the Academy with an IQ lower than 120, the politics of the schoolyard remains remarkably unchanged, even in the 23rd century. Those on the lower end of what is Starfleet’s spectrum of intelligence seem to have the tactical advantage in terms of physicality. Therefore, when the day comes that command cadets are instructed to form teams for what they referred to as an “exercise in survival,” the smile that grew on Kirk’s face could only be described as “unsettling.”

As a personal recruit of Captain Christopher Pike, Kirk is on permanent Starfleet observation. His file was only slightly thicker than those his peers, thanks in part to all the testimonials and observation reports from former instructors and counselors. He detested losing, took unusual steps to win and most of all, Kirk liked to toe the line of regulation, enough to skew but not actually cross it. He had a reputation for being a flirt but also for being loyal to a fault and people genuinely took a shine to him despite hesitant first impressions. He was also considered by Academy counselors to have a certain disregard for preserving life, particularly his own and could maybe be considered an active thrillseeker. His days for outright recklessness were behind him, his psych report read, but nevertheless James T. Kirk enjoyed pushing himself to the limit, when the situation allowed.

“This exercise in survival will take place on a Starfleet regulated island, the details of which have been uploaded onto your PADDs. The drop will be at 0600 hours. Each command cadet will have the opportunity to put together a team consisting of the following: two cadets with a specialty of your discretion and a support team of four. You have until tomorrow to put in your nominations, teams will be announced before the end of the day. Dismissed,” the instructor, a Lt. McGillion turned smartly on his heel and left the command cadets standing at attention in neat rows. The students manage to hold it in for about two seconds before splitting up and talking excitedly about who they would pick.

Leonard McCoy was telling off a ham-handed nurse when Kirk strolled into the biolab and hoisted himself up onto the sparkling counter. McCoy has known Jim long enough to know that it’s really no use shoving him off.

“What now, Jim? I’m busy,” McCoy says, hastily looking around for something that will make him look just that. The smile Kirk flashed him was blinding.

“Going on a field trip,” he said blithely and reached over to clap a hand on McCoy’s shoulder. “And I want you on my team.”

 

+++

 

The team Kirk puts together consisted of the following: Lorne, Sheppard, Dex, and Emmagen for support; Parrish, an expert on xenobotany who had an open-mindedness that Kirk appreciated, given his reputation for putting strange plants into his mouth and loudly announcing what was “safe to eat”. Then there’s McCoy who, while complaining loudly and regularly, rounded out the team. As a senior medical officer, he had every right, really, the prerogative, to back out. But anyone who’s been stuck in a room (or biolab, in McCoy’s case) with James Tiberius Kirk for ten minutes knows that he is a hard man to resist.

McCoy had to grudgingly admit that Kirk’s picked out a great team, the best team, in fact, if the looks the other command cadet teams are shooting them mean anything. Lorne and Sheppard were top of their classes in math and astrophysics and hand-to-hand. They also seem to be the same type as Kirk, McCoy thought, as he watched them rib each other and try to stifle laughter. Lorne’s got a good cop face but he can take a joke; Sheppard’s more easygoing but can go from zero to serious in one second flat and had piloting skills good enough for people to remember him. Dex didn’t talk much but he was also huge and extremely intimidating. Emmagen was a woman and equal parts soldier and diplomat. McCoy was wary of her at first but she seemed impervious to Kirk’s casual flirting, a feat that earned his respect because Jim was really unbearable when in proximity to a really nice set of breasts.

“Ready to leave, Bones?” Kirk asked, all but draping himself around the doctor. McCoy growled at him because it was 0500 hours and the sun hadn’t even risen yet and here was Jim all bright and shiny and excited.

Kirk laughed and turned his attention to Lorne and Sheppard, equally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Bones really hated them all. They were all outfitted in terrain suits, with all the right instruments for temperature regulation and maintaining atmospheric pressure and all other sorts of things. They were allowed a streamlined supply of rations, enough food and water for the projected twelve hours this exercise would take and a medikit so basic that McCoy chafed.

The flight to the island was uneventful, while the team checked their equipment. They were the first of four teams scheduled for the exercise on that day, their PADDs confirmed, and would be dropped onto the island on time. They were to make their way across the island to the meeting point during which they had to avoid some danger, gather pertinent samples of flora and fauna and arrive without delay at the meeting point—everything required of a standard exploration mission. Should a member of the team be compromised, taken out by anything from instant sickness beyond the help of the medical officer or fallen into a trap, suit telemetry would gauge the parameters of danger and automatically set off a distress signal. The team member would instantly be beamed to the meeting point and “presumed dead”. Command cadets are expected to lead the team to safety and maintain their own. Failure to do so naturally led to demerits in overall grade.

“This is surprisingly primitive by Starfleet standards,” McCoy grumbled, wishing for the sterilized biobeds and familiar smell of disinfectant. “Why couldn’t they just put you through a simulation and be done with it?”

“Simulated bug bites are quite the same as the real ones, Bones,” Kirk’s smirk was visible under the visor of his helmet. “Why aren’t you excited? When we’re assigned to Starships in the future, this is going to be exactly what we’re going to do, run around, study some rocks, meet some aliens—sexy aliens, probably. Be a sport,” Kirk said.

“Prepare for drop,” the small transporter shuttle’s computer informed them. “Target lock in 20 minutes.”

Oh boy, McCoy thought. He hated flying and he definitely hated having to drop out of a flying shuttle and possibly falling to his death. But he was a practical man and seriously, he’d signed up for this in the first place, signed up to drop out of flying things and risk death for the purpose of serving as a peacekeeper for the Federation. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy...” McCoy chanted when the hatch of the shuttle popped open.

Support went first, with what sounded like excited cheering on Sheppard’s part. Parrish followed and then Kirk reached out and grabbed McCoy’s wrist.

“You okay, Bones?” He sounded so genuinely concerned that McCoy’s pre-determination to give him hell for this cracked.

“Damnit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a goddamned flying squirrel,” he replied, looking at—oh sweet Jesus—miles and miles of atmosphere between the shuttle and the thick brush below them, dotted by five colored figures spiraling downward. A version of this that went on for all eternity would be McCoy’s personal hell.

“Just deploy when I say so,” Jim said, flashing McCoy a giant grin and then pushing him off the shuttle before following him down.

To be honest, skydiving is a relatively quiet sport—if not for McCoy’s hoarse screaming all the way down.

 

+++

 

The island’s vegetation was dense. So dense, in fact that landing was almost comfortable. Whatever was on the ground was at least a foot thick, packed tightly enough that no one sank into it but thick enough for one to be extremely suspicious of what disgusting things might be hidden in it. Parrish was in heaven, immediately ripping off his helmet in order to punch things into his PADD with almost hysterical glee.

“It’s kinda bouncy,” Kirk said, unable to hide his delight.

“Uuuugggnnnnhhh,” McCoy said in response, lying on his back and staring up at what little sky he could see past the tree tops.

“Time’s wasting. Let’s go,” Dex said, hefting his phaser and looking around.

“We’re here to explore,” Kirk pointed out, running his hands over a purple tree trunk. “Where the heck are we anyway? Is this still Earth?” He looked at a giant flower and peered closer. “Hey, this one is kind of pretty.” He reached out and poked one of its huge petals.

The flower trembled and then reared straight up on a tangled mass of vines, its giant face tilted back to reveal rows of predatory looking teeth.

“Run!” Kirk shouted and bent and grabbed McCoy around the arm and dragged him to his feet. Somehow the flower was slithering towards them like a giant plantlike snake or a snakelike plant or whatever. Lorne grabbed his other arm and helped Kirk heave the doctor through the brush. Dex ran ahead, cutting and slashing brush out of the way while Emmagen aided Parrish and Sheppard took the rear.

“I’m taking a shot!” Sheppard shouted.

“Set it to stun!” Parrish screamed back as Emmagen half-dragged him away. “It’s just a plant!”

“I really don’t want to be eaten by a plant!” Sheppard shouted back. He took two shots at the plant and caught up. “Go, go, go, go!” He waved at them to hurry and then dove behind a fallen tree trunk while the plant got itself tangled in its own vines and lost interest in the little group.

“That was close,” Kirk said, matter-of-factly.

“Close!?” McCoy retorted, his face screwing up in irritation. “That plant wanted to kill us!”

“Could’ve been worse,” Kirk shrugged. “Could’ve been stranded on Delta Vega.”

 

+++

 

Parrish was the first casualty.

After two hours of hiking, McCoy had begun to understand why exactly this exercise might take twelve hours to complete. The vegetation hindered a lot of movement. The terrain suits kept it all in and most importantly to the doctor, kept things out. But after two hours, they had only walked a couple of kilometers with Sheppard making comments about how his grandmother could make better progress.

“Well, if your grandmother was in Starfleet,” Kirk started, wryly.

“Actually, she was. Yeoman,” Sheppard said, raising an eyebrow. Kirk whistled his approval.

“A yeoman’s like, what? A housekeeper for a Starship?” Parrish asked, his eyes slightly wild from the information overload he was currently experiencing. He twisted here and there, scanning plants with a tricorder.

“I prefer to think of it as Starship support,” Kirk cut in. “Besides, they are so much easier on the eyes than crewmen.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose Starships would still need personnel like that. We’ve advanced far in technology for what can generally be considered a short period in Earth time but Starships still need good shipkeep,” Parrish continued.

“Well, then, we know what career you narrowly avoided,” Sheppard retorted.

Parrish seemed mostly distracted and leaned over a bush covered in tiny pretty purple flowers. “Hm, true actually, if I wasn’t so good at xenobotany, I might be doling out chocolate pudding in a Starship mess after gradua—,“ Parrish sneezed violently and then suddenly clutched at his throat, unable to breath. The others hurried to him and McCoy pulled out his medikit and searched frantically for a general antihistamine hypo and stabbed it into his neck but it was too late. The air crackled at bit with the static they were familiar with by now and in a swirl of light, Parrish was beamed away.

McCoy ran his tricorder over the bush and watched the results pop up. “We better get out of here. The flowers on that plant are releasing extremely toxic pollen. I hope whoever is on the other end knew what to do with Parrish. Put your helmets with visors back on so this doesn’t happen again.”

“They serve chocolate pudding on Starships? Sweet,” Kirk said, sliding his visor shut.

 

+++

 

Four hours later, while trying to scale a steep incline, they lost Emmagen and Lorne. The two of them had taken up the rear and were deep in conversation about the merits of inter-planet student exchanges in order to diversify campuses when the ground started to tremble. Kirk yelled and grabbed for Emmagen, who grabbed for Lorne who slipped off the ledge and smacked bodily into the edge of a brand new crevasse. He wheezed and struggled for a foothold but Emmagen’s hand was tiny and the ground was not at all stable.

“Sheppard! Dex! Some help here!” Kirk called. But it took both McCoy and Sheppard drag Dex out of a near-miss into yet another fissure in the earth.

“Kind of busy!” Sheppard shouted. “Okay, got it. I’m coming!” He leaped over a couple of cracks in the ground that seemed to be slowly expanding and lunged for the edge, crawling over to try and grab Lorne’s other hand.

“Lorne!” Emmagen shouted, twisting her hand for a better hold on Kirk. “Grab Sheppard’s hand and…oh no,” Her eyes looked on in horror. “Leader, the fissures…they are beginning to close.”

Sure enough, the newly formed cracks that had opened to try and swallow up the intruders seemed to slowly shut, like horrible mouths made of rock and soil. Lorne was still swinging precariously and Emmagen was slowly slipping out of Kirk’s hand.

“Got him!” Sheppard shouted and started to pull Lorne out. And then in one terrifying moment, the fissure slammed shut and there was a flash of light.

“Evan!” Emmagen shouted, pulling away from Kirk. She stomped hard on the crack but it was closed off with no sign of her fellow cadet.

“No, no, they beamed him out, that was close,” Sheppard was pale, a look of relief set in.

“That was terrifying,” Emmagen said, her lips in a tight line. And then in one horrible moment that happened way too fast for McCoy to register, the crack reopened and she plummeted down. It happened so fast that she had not time to even shout but Dex bellowed, “Teyla!” and shoved Kirk aside to see her fall.

There was a crunch and a groan of pain when she landed but the ground seemed covered in silt or sand because she rolled onto her back and her suit telemetry indicated all vitals stable when McCoy glanced at his PADD.

“Are you alright!?” McCoy practically shouted into his helmet radio. “Good god, Emmagen, what in the world was that?”

“My leg is broken,” Emmagen’s voice came through loud and clear on their receivers. “The auto-distress call has been sent. My apologies, leader,” she said, sounding somewhat chastened.

“It’s entirely my fault, Emmagen,” Kirk said, sounding tight. McCoy let himself sympathize for a while. Current medical advances would allow her to heal in record time but she would still be put off physical training for at least two weeks. McCoy knew Jim well enough to know that more than the objectives of this exercise, more than the grade, he would bear the guilt of delaying the growth potential of the people he led and berate himself for losing people on a mission. It was an admirable trait in a leader, one that no certificate could ever justify.

“I will see you at the meeting point,” Emmagen said, before being beamed out.

 

+++

 

They were down to four: Kirk, McCoy, Sheppard and Dex and it had begun to rain.

McCoy had nothing against rain. He was from the South where there were healthy enough amounts of heat and rain and humidity. The terrain suits kept them dry and their body temperature regulated; the visors had anti-fogging surfaces and LED lights allowed them to see relatively well.

They huddled around the command PADD that Kirk had and watched as he pressed the surface of the tablet. “A new directive,” Kirk announced and played it back for them with sound.

“Command Cadet James T. Kirk, this exercise has a new directive,” the message said. “You are currently an estimated two point three five six miles from your target point with precisely seven hours thirty-six minutes to complete the mission. You are down to four men on your team. Cadet Olsen and his team are the only remaining command team on the island. You are now in a scenario that assumes the opposing team has been compromised by alien life-forms. You are to consider them hostile. Continue to the meeting point as per original orders but should you come across the other team, you are to engage. Please affirm.” The computer screen blinked and Kirk pushed the square that said yes.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Dex stared at Kirk from under a furrowed brow.

“It really doesn’t. I say we just make it to the meeting point as fast as we can,” McCoy said. “This rain won’t be to our advantage in a fight. It’s too heavy.”

“Phasers aren’t functioning at one hundred percent,” Sheppard said, as he examined his weapon. “Do you have any blades on you?” He asked Dex. Dex wordlessly slid two small sheaths from straps around his boots and handed one to Kirk and one to Sheppard. Sheppard pressed a button and a fine blade about six inches long and made from an extremely strong and thin metal alloy unfurled with a hiss. McCoy really hated those things. He handled them in the form of surgical scalpels but anything bigger gave him the willies. Like dying from a thousand paper cuts.

Kirk brought up the GPS on his PADD and started in the direction of the meeting point. “If we walk steadily, we’ll make it in two hours, tops. I don’t want to have to engage Olsen at all. I heard he was a brawler. Irish, you know,” he said, as if it explained everything.

 

+++

 

They didn’t meet Olsen but they did encounter a very large and nasty looking reptile. Or rather, McCoy stepped on its tail and it woke up and charged at him. He would forever deny the girlish shriek that slipped from his lips but he was from the South and was thusly justified.

“It’s just scared. I don’t think it’s poisonous,” Dex offered helpfully. “It’s got a round pupil.” He gestured a hand toward the lizard’s head.

“It’s seven feet long and a thousand pounds!” McCoy growled from where he was halfway up a tree trunk. “And his eye is the size of a basketball!”

“Nice lizard…nice lizard..,” Kirk said, as he circled around the reptile like a matador. “Please leave us alone.”

The lizard cocked its head and its tongue stuck out to lave at its lizard-y lips.

“It’s going to eat us,” McCoy snarled at Kirk who twisted his head to look up at him.

“Look, I don’t think its going to eat us and if you stop whining like a little girl, I will shoo it away and we can get on. I’m getting hungry myself. Doesn’t it look tasty to you?” Kirk turned towards it like a zombie and took a step towards the lizard. “I can hear music in my head.”

“You can…what?” McCoy stared down. He scrambled from the tree and ducked behind the trunk to observe.

“I want my mommy,” Sheppard said, suddenly. “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dex said, gruff and resigned. He slumped a little from where he was standing and if he wasn’t such a giant, he would seem like a very petulant child. “But it’s not going to work out. I can only do threesomes if one of you’s a woman.”

McCoy squinted at them. “Hey, what the—what did I say about keeping the visors on!?” His was on but sometime during their jungle hike, Kirk, Sheppard and Dex had slid theirs off. The lizard thing must be exuding some kind of weird pheromone that made people crazy or something.

“I really miss my dad but I don’t know who he is,” Kirk said, sliding to his knees. “Bones? Hey, Bones, will you be my daddy?”

McCoy spluttered. “This is…this is ridiculous.” McCoy dropped to a crouch and maneuvered towards Jim. “Nice lizard,” he muttered refraining from rolling his eyes. The lizard eyed him suspiciously but otherwise remained in its place. McCoy lunged at Kirk and punched at the controls on his helmet, breathing in relief when the fiberglass closed over his eyes. He prodded at the terrain suit to allow the atmosphere to gush in and out of the suit’s gills, an attempt to flush out any toxins. A wild guess but it seemed to work because Kirk’s pupils slowly shrank and he began to seem more lucid.

“Jim, Jim, are you alright?” McCoy shook him by the shoulders.

Kirk shook his head as if to clear it. “Bones?” He said, smiling a little dopily. “Are you hugging me? Because you’re doing it wrong.”

McCoy shot him a look of disgust and shoved at him a little. “Snap out of it, Jim, Sheppard’s in trouble.” He pointed in the direction of their last remaining support. Sheppard and Dex had their arms slung around each other’s shoulders and were doing some kind of lopsided can-can. Their lizard acquaintance even seemed to sway along to their motions.

“Hey, Sheppard! Sheppard! Dex!” Kirk tossed a handful of rocks in their direction. “Snap out of it, ladies, we aren’t in the clear yet. Close your visors!” He studied the situation and tried to think of a way to get around the beast.

“I’m going to ride my unicorn!” Sheppard let go of Dex and ran towards the lizard, throwing his body across the reptile’s scaly back. Alarmed, the lizard started to buck but Sheppard simply howled in glee and wrapped his arms around the lizard’s neck. It reared up and knocked Dex onto his butt, near enough to McCoy who immediately tended to the man in the same way he did Kirk.

Kirk circled around the lizard, like some kind of spaceman-slash-rodeo clown, trying to grab at Sheppard but the lizard’s tail swung around, preventing him from getting close.

“Sheppard, you gotta jump!” Kirk shouted, doing some kind of evasive maneuvering monkey dance. Dex scrambled to his feet and shoved the doctor away and with a grunt, heaved a well-sized rock up and over his head and brought it down on the lizard’s tail with a resounding crack. The lizard reared a little and then scrambled away—taking Sheppard with it. It was surprisingly fast for something that was practically a dinosaur, McCoy thought. “Jim, wait!” He called but Kirk was already crashing through bramble after the lizard and Sheppard and quite obviously without a plan.

There was a flash of light, followed by an explosion of purple pus or phlegm or something extremely disgusting by all the standards of his medical training.

“Oh my god,” Kirk said, as he staggered back to their position. “Sheppard was beamed out,” he said, trying to wipe purple slime off his face. “But he somehow managed to stab the lizard in the head. I don’t think he meant it though.”

McCoy took a step back. He didn’t want to get any of purple gook on his terrain suit. They were supposed to keep it in good shape because it would be the only one assigned to them until they were promoted, at least.

“I wonder how many points will be taken off from my grade if you accidentally kill local creatures,” Kirk wondered aloud. “And I got you a present, Bones.” He pulled out a pulsating purple organ. “It’s a gland. At least, I think it’s a gland, maybe it’s a node. Maybe it’s a liver, I dunno. The tricorder said it was emitting the weird toxin that possibly led to the hallucination. Anyway, Bones,” Kirk leaned, his smile conspiratorial. “If you synthesize something decent from whatever you find in there, let me know. We’ll throw a party.”

Not for the first time in the last ten hours or so, Bones rolled his eyes.

 

+++

 

They had less than two hours to get to the meeting point and even Kirk was starting to worry.

“You think Olsen’s group will be actively looking to engage?” Dex asked, so far the longest sentence McCoy had ever heard him manage in the short time they’d been acquainted.

“We’re about to find out!” Kirk turned and tackled McCoy, as phaser beams flashed overhead. Dex had one in each hand and fired without hesitation and Kirk scrambled to his feet and pushed a phaser into McCoy’s hand. “Just shoot, doctor, set it to stun,” he grit out, running to help Dex. “At anything that moves!”

“I’m a doctor, not a---AAAAAAGH!”

“Bones! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, I tripped…and I think I stunned my own foot.”

“They got Dex,” Kirk came crashing back towards him. “He was beamed out. It’s just you and me now. But come on, we lay low and they won’t find us. The sun is setting and we’re nearly at the meeting point. We can make it.”

“Maybe I should call for transport. With this foot, I’ll be a burden,” Bones hopped up and down on his good leg.

“It’s not going to look good if I get there alone. Besides, I could never leave you behind, Bones,” Kirk’s face settled into an expression of grim determination. His arm wrapped protectively around Bones’ waist.

For a second there, Bones couldn’t remember if he’d stunned his foot by accident or his brain.

 

+++

 

McCoy stared at his PADD in disbelief. There on the screen, plain as day, were the results of the exercise. James T. Kirk, team leader, followed by the names of his team and highlighted with not only the highest grade in the class but with a special comment on his leadership skills. McCoy tapped the screen of his PADD with a stylus and then looked underneath it, rattling it about to see if it was malfunctioning.

They’d lost people left and right during this mission: they’d lost Parrish and all his samples with him; Emmagen had a broken leg and Dex had been out cold for two days thanks to getting stunned with relatively high settings. McCoy was surprised his brain hadn’t completely fried. Sheppard had to be put into detox because of the amount of lizard juice he had absorbed into his system, a weird reptilian toxin almost like the Earth narcotic methamphetamine. Lorne was alright, just scratched up and McCoy stunned his own foot, which was a personal mistake he knew but was glad to allow Jim to take responsibility for letting it happen on his watch.

Kirk came whistling up to him, stride happy and purposeful, grin wide. “Bones! Just the man I wanted to see. Get the results yet?”

“Who’d you sleep with to get the highest grade?” McCoy asked, eyebrow rising up in a disapproving arch.

“Dr. McCoy, I never!” Kirk grinned and then leaned in to whisper. “The grade was based on team testimonials, not my personal log. I just got my copy back actually.” Kirk leaned on a wall. “I heard yours was the swing vote—something about Cadet Kirk’s valiant bravery and unequaled quick thinking and grace under pressure? Big words, Bones. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

McCoy opened and closed his mouth a few times, frozen in place. Kirk moved in smoothly, pinning McCoy to the wall, his PADD the only thing separating them.

“In your dreams,” McCoy managed, gruff but unable to come up with anything more scathing. He pushed past Kirk and hurried down the hall.

“Hey, if you wanted me to kiss your foot better, all you had to do is ask!” Kirk shouted after him, laughing. 

 

\- END -

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: http://midnight-city.livejournal.com/72733.html


End file.
